


The High Lords of the Unholy Order of The Mouse

by keire_ke



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Horror, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, spoiler not quite worth the tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 20:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18698443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keire_ke/pseuds/keire_ke
Summary: Before Endgame went into production, the writers and directors had to prove they are worthy. The audition that wasCaptain America: The Winter Soldierdid not go without a hitch, and soon a new task will be put to the writers. A harder, more demanding task.





	The High Lords of the Unholy Order of The Mouse

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know it for a fact, but I'm pretty sure that's what happened before _Civil War_ and then _Endgame_ went into production. XD

Through the darkness of the headquarters a steady beat reverberates: footsteps. Hurried in their pace, desperate in their echoes, terrifying in the ears of the man they shadow. He does not stop though; the corridor is long and dark, and he has a message to impart.

Finally, he is at the door. It is a door not unlike many of the others, even to the trained eye. What sets this door apart, though, is its position. You need to take the second staircase to the right of the main entrance, and then follow the corridor to its eastern end, and there it is: plain, wooden door, with a worn, bronze handle.

The man pauses before it. He is allowed to knock on the door and enter, and it is not a privilege he takes lightly; those that wait behind the door will not either. Nevertheless, it must be done. He knocks, and holds his breath as he listens for a confirmation from within.

It rises from among the murmurs: "Enter."

"Forgive me, sirs," the man says, as he steps into the darkened room, taking great care not to move past the borders delimited by the light of the corridor, "But there is an urgent matter that must be addressed."

The silence deepens. The man swallows. "The movie… the movie we have released. There is… a complication."

The silence trembles; breaks. "Has it been… a failure?"

"No, no. God, no. Merely a complication."

"What is it?"

He has been prepared for this. "I have a presentation, sirs," he says, thrusting forward the tablet he carries.

He is beckoned forward, away from the safety of the light. The door closes behind him, but he is already engrossed in the intricacies of wi-fi connections and unearthing the elusive projector identifiers. The screen flashes; three circles combine, and the presentation goes live.

"What is this, Berry?"

The man chokes down the correction that his name is Barry. "These are excerpts from the most recent Captain America movie."

"Why is this man… emoting."

"This is Sebastian Stan, he played the character of Bucky Barnes in the first Captain America movie."

Disturbed silence follows. On the screen Mr. Stan's eyes grow wide, shimmer; his mouth parts. Barry averts his gaze, prays that the swell of empathy he feels does not show on his face.

"I recall," said one of the figures. The ears atop his head cast flickering shadows as the projected scenes change. "He has been killed. Fallen from a train. A worthy ending for a minor role."

"Yes, sir. But for the sake of the story he has been found, and brainwashed. His memory has been erased and he is working unwillingly for the enemy now, as an assassin. He does not remember who he was."

A susurrus of surprise. The projector shows the Winter Soldier turn, and Chris Evans as Captain America stops in surprise.

"But whence the feelings, if he is an assassin?"

Barry trembles. "Mr. Stan has a past," he says, quietly. "He has, previously, played… a homosexual."

There is silence, deep, abiding silence that only shock could induce.

"Why has this been hidden from us?"

"Not hidden, sir," Barry hastens to clarify, nearly dropping the tablet. "We have known. It has been deemed an inconvenience. We have been assured it would not impact our goals."

"Inconvenience?" a voice at the end of the table hisses as its owner leans forward. "All this… emotion? From a man?"

"Wait," says another, the one seated in the middle. "This is not on Berry. The orders were to let the directors and writers have free rein, to see if they are worthy. There are other movies. This is… unfortunate, but can be managed. Is the movie doing well?"

"Yes, sir! Better than expected. The revenue is respectable, and critics are favourable."

"Then no real harm has been done. The character is minor; he will be dismissed. You may go, Berry."

"There is one more thing, sir," Berry attempts to stand up straight, but his spine rebels. "The fans."

"What of them?"

"The… female fans."

A brief confusion is his only answer. "This movie has no romance in it. This has been specified."

"The movies have female fans, sir. Quite a few."

A few voices raise, and fall, when the figure in the middle raises a hand encased in a white glove. "Women have money. Their contributions are not to be scoffed at and will be permitted."

"Yes, sir," Berry manages in relief, then immediately remembers what needs to follow. "They find this character engaging. Deeply so. They are creating images and stories."

" _Fans_ are creating _stories_?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"This is highly unorthodox."

"There is more, sir." Barry pauses the video, and unfortunately the moment he has chosen is a close-up of Mr. Stan, gazing onto his audience in despondent confusion. That would be bad, but what follows is worse.

"Are those men… crying?"

"Yes, sir." The image slips off the screen, another takes its place. There is more than one sharp intake of breath.

"These are two men, Berry."

"Yes, sir."

"Why are they—" the words won't make it past the man's mouth, Barry knows. The idea is just too much to comprehend. "How is this possible? Why is it allowed?"

"According to our research the female fans find the actor's emotionality approachable."

"There are females in the movie. If… kissing is desired, why has it not been provided?"

"The fans feel that the emotions between those two characters are stronger."

"This other character is Captain America."

"Yes—"

"This will not be tolerated. And you are saying the female fans—" Barry heard the man stumble on the concept "—feel this actor is predisposed to these… actions?"

"I—" Barry is not sure. The researchers have not gotten this far, frantic with worry already.

"Regardless." There is another spell of silence as the men gaze in silence at the image projected onto the screen. "We have quite a problem here."

"The fans are loud, sir. The whole forums are on its feet."

"This man is dangerous," the middle figure agrees. "What to do? We cannot leave him to his own devices."

"He could be killed," suggested the one at the end of the table.

Barry stiffens. "Sirs, Mr. Stan's contract requires him to appear in seven more movies, he represents a considerable investment."

Five pairs of blank, black eyes swivel in his direction, their callous, geometric perfection piercing through his soul. "The character, Berry."

"Oh. Yes. Of course. But…"

"Yes, Berry?"

"Sir, the movie establishes him as an important factor in Captain America's life. The critics have asserted his presence is key to the movies' appeal. Killing him off might hurt the story."

"Story! For the good of the franchise, this Bucky must die."

"Y-yes. Of course."

Barry severs the connection with the projector and turns to leave. He almost makes it.

"Wait."

Barry stops, heart in his mouth.

"He is popular, you say?"

"The actor, yes. The character as well."

"Then we may need a more permanent solution to this problem," says a voice from the left. Barry is not sure which of the two men seated on the left side spoke. "Fans are relentless. Zealous. Death might not be enough."

"We must… crush the idea completely." He leans back in his chair, which Barry knows by sound rather than sight: the room is now in near perfect darkness. "Death would encourage emotion, and popularity brings revenue. It is unwise to reject a popular character completely."

"What then to do about this mania?" wonders the end of the table.

"I recall there was a female in this movie. A blonde. She can be used in the next, if fans require kissing."

"And if that fails?"

"There was another," speaks a rasp. It is the figure to the right of the man in the middle, who has been silent until now. "In the first movie, there was another."

Barry freezes. "Sir, she has aged. She is now… old."

"Time means nothing, Berry. The Mouse must be appeased. Bring us the writers."

Barry straightens and takes a step back. "Yes. Of course. Right away, sirs." He falls into the corridor and the door closes behind him.

"The Mouse must be appeased," he mutters to himself as he rushes back the way he came. "The Mouse must be appeased."

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> If you detected a subtle hint of a certain rock opera, you are right. This was partially based on [Jesus Christ Superstar: The Pharisee Council](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uo81UqO54dg)


End file.
